


in blue

by kedda



Series: non perdere la fiducia in me [5]
Category: SKAM (Italy)
Genre: Angst, Boy Squad, Friendship, Gen, S2e5clip6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 14:09:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16577993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kedda/pseuds/kedda
Summary: If he’s going to push us away,he remembered thinking,he better push hard._Elia POV after Marti leaves.





	in blue

They watched Martino disappear into the blue gloom beyond the streetlight.

Out of the corner of his eye Elia saw Gio rock backward on his heels, as if reliving the blow again.

"Zi, you okay?” he asked, voice low. Gio nodded and then shook his head. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him,” Gio admitted. Before Elia could get a good look at his face Gio walked over to a curb in the shadows and sat down. Elia and Luchino followed, sitting down on either side of him. Gio turned to look at Elia. For a second Elia didn’t know how to read his face, which appeared eerily still, eyes calm. Then he saw the rigid tension in Gio’s jaw and the way his throat was working up and down. _Shit_.

“I don’t fucking know Gio,” he said, releasing a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. “You’re sure you’re alright?” “Yeah, yeah. Fuck.” Gio leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hanging his head. Cautiously, Luca placed an arm around Gio’s shoulders. Gio leaned in, and Elia saw his body shake for a moment before Gio forced himself still. Elia’s anger from before had been buried under the shock at Martino’s violence, by the fact that he’d thrown Gio to the ground and walked away. Now it rose in him again, hot and vicious. He’d walked away. Why? None of this behavior was consistent with the Martino he’d befriended, whom he’d come to trust. They had all thought that if they got Marti to come out with them that maybe he could relax a little, forget for a moment about whatever it was that had been bothering him lately and see that they would always be there for him, as they knew he would be for them. Now Elia wasn’t sure where Martino stood; it sure as hell didn’t feel like it was with them.

A warm hand came up to rest on his knee, making him realize that he had been bouncing his leg up and down. He looked up and Gio was watching him, expectant. He felt his fear and worry crystallize into something that burned. “He’s a fucking asshole. What do you want me to say?” Elia burst out, tightening his grip on his legs. “He’s been ditching us for weeks, using his parents as an excuse like we can’t take a fucking hint. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him but I’m having a hard time caring.” He picked up a piece of gravel on the ground and chucked it as far as it could go. “And after tonight? After he threw that shit with Eva in your face? After he _threw_ you to the ground? I don’t even know.” He felt his breath come fast and he tried to shake the tension out of his body.

Gio had been nodding slightly throughout, and sensing that Elia was done he patted Elia’s knee absently. “Something’s going on,” was all he said, and Elia felt the anger flow to the surface hot and thick again. There was something about how mild Gio’s reaction was, how ready he seemed to accept Marti’s shitty treatment that made Elia see red. Gio had to _know_.

“There’s always something going on with him,” he sneered, “but guess what?  _Everybody's_  got shit going on! It’s not a fucking excuse, especially when it means you treat your friends like this, like they’re a waste of your time.” He frowned down at the ground, grinding a cigarette butt under the heel of his sneaker. “Let him show his sad-sack face at school on Monday, I don’t give a shit.”

“Elia,” Luca said beseechingly, but Elia was shaking his head before he could continue. “No, Luca. He didn’t come to your birthday party.” “Oh daje, it’s just a party—”

“It’s not just a party,” Elia hissed, feeling the familiar momentum of anger pick up again, “it’s fucking being there for the people you care about, and not making excuses and lying to them. I just,” and he heard his voice break and suddenly he felt all his rage leave him, replaced by swirling confusion, “I really don’t understand him anymore. I don’t get it.” He gave Gio a look, not wanting to say the words aloud. Gio shook his head, looking incredibly weary all of a sudden and Elia had to turn away, feeling heat prick behind his eyes. Gio cleared his throat and frowned, eyes narrowing.

“There’s been something going on,” he began, “I think since sometime before that guy with my earbuds came to the gym. I don’t know what it is. But it seems like Marti has been holding on to it since then. I thought that he would find a way to tell us in his own time.” Gio paused, mouth working. He was looking down at his hands, picking at the calluses on his left palm. He heaved in a breath. “I’ve never seen him like this, though. I don’t know if he’ll tell us.” He looked over at Luca then at Elia. The tremble seemed to have left Gio’s body, replaced by something steelier.  His eyes were sharp, as though he were seeing something clearly for the first time. Still looking at Elia he continued, “But he needs us. That I don’t doubt for a second.” He turned his gaze on some point in the distance and Elia felt the fire in his system dwindle to a flicker. He shared a look with Luca and finally exhaled.

“Why does Marti always have to be so complicated, I swear,” he said, kicking at a loose stone. Gio chuckled next to him, “He’s not so complicated. His fight or flight response is just to hide.” “Well that’s no good, is it?” Elia said, not quite ready to smile. Luca snorted. “I can’t deny that I usually choose to hide,” Luca rejoined, looking sly, “You guys won’t let me hear the last of it.”

“I contrabbandieri di Luchini!” Gio exclaimed, clapping Luca on the back. “Of course, our legendary hider.” Elia heard the smile fade from Gio’s voice, and he tried to remember the way Marti had looked when they had caught up with him.

His shoulders had been hunched, as if he were bracing himself against a cold wind. It must have been, he realized, something internal to himself that he had been trying to keep at bay. They had thought that a night out would have helped him forget whatever it was that was bothering him; clearly, it had had the opposite effect. When Gio had spun Marti around to finally confront him about what was wrong, after Elia and Gio had been talking for weeks about the changes they had noticed in their friend, Marti’s face had been a mask. After all that waiting he had become inaccessible; and Elia remembered now how Gio’s voice had broken when he saw this. Gio had said, “we’ve wanted to come here all night, and now you’re leaving?” and meant “if you’re not here, then what’s the point?” But Marti was peering out from behind the immovable object again, and somehow Elia had not noticed until now that it had become an impenetrable wall. Elia hardly heard what Marti said then as his frustration curdled to anger— anger at Marti for cutting them off, but more than that, anger at how helpless he felt before the distance that had sprung up between them. _If he’s going to push us away_ , he remembered thinking, _he better push hard_. Elia had turned and been sure to throw his barbs as accurately as possible. “Go fight with your mother—or maybe your father, this time,” he’d said, and in his anger he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. As if on command, Marti had followed him, and this was a language that Elia spoke fluently. He threw Marti back, thinking _if this is what it takes to purge whatever demon you’ve been keeping locked in there, keep it coming_. He hadn’t been prepared for Marti’s howl, or how he would keep twisting and jerking after Gio had gotten his arms around him as if possessed. And then—as he remembered it was like watching something happen in slow-motion—a final twist made contact between Marti’s elbow and Gio’s side, and Gio’s vice-like grip had slackened as he fell to the ground. Shocked, Elia had looked up, trying to find answers, a crack in the mask that Marti wouldn’t drop. Marti’s face was in shadow, shoulders up again, arms twitching at his sides. He took a step backwards, then another, and with a final turn had stalked away. The heat from before had vanished and a chill settled deep in Elia’s bones. He had been angry and bewildered before, disbelieving that Marti could do such a thing. Thanks to Gio’s words he remembered now that Marti _wouldn’t_ do this. He’d been gasping for breath after each venomous comment as if he were trying to outrun something that, after a long pursuit, had finally caught up with him. Marti had been looking at them as though they were the ones hurting him, and that was probably what hurt the most. _You’re not alone Marti, but you have to let us help you. How can we do nothing when we know you’re in pain?_ Elia knew that it was this same thing that must be ravaging him now, and with a pang he wondered where Marti could have gone after leaving them; he certainly wouldn’t have gone home. He turned to Gio and nudged him with his foot.

“Where do you think he is now?” he asked, but Gio was already shaking his head.

“I don’t know. I don’t know."

**Author's Note:**

> idk about all of you, but when Marti was gasping for air at the end of the clip I was right there with him. christ.


End file.
